Unsolicited Providence
by bloody bint
Summary: A snarky, genre savvy jaywalker finds herself decorating the asphalt and reborn into a stratocracy where child soldiers are the norm. People she comes to care for will die and she's unwilling to play the hero… but as Kurenai, maybe she had to. Or not. [self-insert]
1. lotus (rebirth)

**A/N:** I've read many self-inserts with an OC who almost passively accepts the Narutoverse's absurd policies and traditions and just seems to go with being the heroic protagonist. Really, if you were placed in a dangerous as hell environment, you'd be willing to selflessly sacrifice your life for strangers? Just like that? You think it'd be easy adjusting to a universe which goes against all of your ingrained beliefs and in which others were out to kill you?

This fic tries to portray a realistic self-insert which exposes the constant dark undercurrent of being trapped in a crapsack world. I write in British English as I am Australian, so discrepancies in spelling and specific terms will be apparent to you US readers.

My writing is also dependent on your feedback, so please review! Con crit is always welcome and appreciated.

* * *

**〇一 |**** lotus (**_**rebirth**_**)**

Throughout my awfully shortened lifetime, I had proudly proclaimed that there was no heaven, purgatory and hell, no reincarnation or other delusional human fantasies of an afterlife. Such silly wishful thinking could have been debunked by the brilliance of simple logic, reasoning, blah, blah, blah, insert skeptical, freethinking, atheistic rant and praise for science here.

Well, fuck me dead and proper, how wrong was I.

I used to think that death was a perpetual state of nothingness, like an eternal sleep. The thought of non-existence scared me shitless as I had so much left to accomplish, so many regrets and a to-do list the size of the figuratively bloody Universe. I had also held the mistaken belief that I was an extremely skilled jaywalker, and that arrogance was, unfortunately, my own self-inflicted undoing. My deepest apologies to whoever's job it was to clean the resulting mess up and scrape me off of the literally bloody asphalt.

All I could remember was this sudden, all-consuming agony before total darkness. When I came to, I expected to be lying in a hospital bed, as my rational mind would have thought. Alas, I was experiencing my worst nightmare: childbirth. I felt the sensation of some release, a rush of cold air and the infernal sound of a screaming, bawling infant. Jeebus, I thought, couldn't anyone shut that little fucker up? And then, it dawned on me.

I was the source of the torturous sound. I was that little fucker.

Holy shit, reincarnation was real.

I was bombarded with the faces of surgically masked strangers, a blinding light and deafening noise. My only natural reaction was to cry like a goddamn baby, because, well, I was a goddamn baby. Amongst the commotion, there was a happy exclamation in an unintelligible foreign language that I couldn't quite identify through the sensory overload. Well, this was a pleasant surprise. I was already bilingual in my past life so a third language would come in handy. Multilingualism, here I come!

They were manhandling me into a swathe of soft blankets before I was shoved in front of the face of a very tired-looking woman. Strands of dark hair were plastered onto her sweaty forehead and her lips were chapped but her brown eyes brightened at the sight of my pathetic, crying and undoubtedly ugly form. Her expression immediately morphed into one of unadulterated happiness and relief. Inexplicably, from that single moment, I couldn't help the feeling of love that flooded through me for this stranger who was to become my second mother. She hushed my cries, soothing my burning lungs and cradled me gently in her arms.

"_Hello, Kurenai-chan."_

Japanese. I was Japanese. At least I got to keep some aspects of my former life as being both Asian and female. My eleven-year old self as a disgusting weeaboo would have squealed at this dream come true… but wait, Kurenai? It was an interesting name that rang a bell. I was instantly reminded of _Naruto_ and wondered if my parents were massive otaku as to name me after a manga character.

Large hands transferred me into the arms of another stranger but when I set my gaze upon his face, I was shocked to stillness. Red eyes. Paralysing red, ringed eyes. What the hell? Maybe it was some medical condition? I'd never heard of such a thing but surely…

"_Welcome to the family, Yuuhi Kurenai."_

No. Oh, HELL NO. I could only recognise the two words of my full name but the impending doom was all too evident. This was not happening, this was utterly, completely, fucking insane—

"_You will make a fine kunoichi someday, my daughter."_

As soon as I heard the word, "kunoichi", as if on cue, I began to wail.

* * *

Success, in most Earth-bound societies, is based primarily on intelligence, diligence and a pinch of Machiavellianism. It is a meritocracy where one climbs the academic ranks at the beginning of our schooling, studying our asses off to get straight A's and stumble our way through a tertiary education application for acceptance into top-tier institutions. Extracurriculars are also highly favoured and the wankers deciding the fate of our future careers think that they show "character", evidence of not solely being a massively socially inept nerd. So, armed with charisma, intelligence and healthy ambition, one can have a successful career, a thriving social life and die with a little more dignity than everyone else. Of course, it is a different case if you have talent coming out from your ass and can be some famous or celebrity athlete or musician, artist and what have you but those are rare exceptions.

Now, facing my newfound dilemma, I had to defenestrate all of that aforementioned bullshit and figure out how not to get myself killed in the average day.

Solution: Become a ninja.

Pros: Magically superhuman abilities, self-defence, a great paycheck, a fit bod from all of that training and societal recognition.

Cons: Insanely detrimental psychological consequences and being in immense danger with death constantly looming over my head.

Well, the pros certainly outnumbered the cons but they sure as hell didn't outweigh them.

Aside from my world-shattering problem, I also had to deal with the total pain of not being able to utilise my limbs properly or openly vocalise my thoughts. I felt so disabled and relinquished of my free will. Everyone was sickeningly patronising with the way they treated me and fine, it wasn't their fault but it still pissed me off. I was trapped in the body of a helpless newborn with the mind of a young freakin' adult. I had almost finished my first year of university, having just begun to find some footing in the "real world", as they called it and now, it was all stripped away from me. I mourned for the loss of my friends and family and I wondered if they were returning the favour. I wondered how many people attended my funeral. But that was all in a past of which I had to put behind me.

Being a baby was also mind-numbingly boring. In the beginning of my second life, a majority of my time was spent crying, sleeping and drooling over my own chin like a pitiful vegetable. However, my mind was constantly rife with thoughts of the future and something hugely different from my past universe: chakra. There were pinpricks of sensation throughout my entire body. It was slight at first but grew to a familiar consistency, pooling into a comforting warmth within my belly. I could _feel_ chakra actively flowing through their pathways. It was totally fascinating. I often tried manipulating it to no avail; I was still too young.

Over the next few months, I improved on my Japanese and could eventually understand most rudimentary terms and phrases, expanding my previously crude knowledge attained through watching anime and reading manga. Experimenting with my physical abilities also proved to be of some entertainment. My vocal folds seemed to be too underdeveloped for me to produce any coherent form of speech and much of it came out as gurgles and idiotic baby talk. I also still couldn't navigate myself at all. From what little I could remember from developmental psychology, I had no idea how a baby with a fully developed mind could fit into any theory.

Hinoiri, my mother, stayed at home and played the domestic role most of the time of feeding me, putting me to sleep and changing soiled nappies. Much dignity was lost with someone else cleaning up after my own piss and shit. She was kind-hearted and lovely but held a fierce streak, the quintessential yamato nadeshiko. Yoruo was often away on missions as a shinobi but was a dutiful father and spent whatever free time he had with his daughter. His stern face contradicted his hilarious behaviour whenever he was around me. Playing peekaboo with a jounin who could kill you in two seconds sure did no favours for their reputation. I had to hand it to them, though. After willingly putting up with all of my crap, figurative or otherwise, I grew to truly appreciate and love them as my own original parents. I finally had a functional family.

They knew that I had an above-average intelligence, though. The little things gave it away. Seemingly self-aware actions, appropriate reactions and my premature ability to recognise and differentiate between people were all noted by my parents. They thought that I was gifted, that _I would make a good kunoichi_. This terrified me. I did not want to be a prodigy and be forced onto the front lines as a child soldier. I did not want to have my first kill at less than five years of age and I refused to be brainwashed into blind patriotism à la Danzo, Koharu and that other guy of the shitty council. Hell, I wasn't even certain if I wanted to become a kunoichi at all.

So, I dumbed down. Just a tad, though. Some prideful part of me still wanted recognition for being bright.

* * *

Friends and relatives often came to visit and annoyingly cooed at me while I was forced to stay put and endure comments along the lines of, "Aww, she's so cute!" I deliberately spat up on the more irritating individuals and burst out crying at the pricks who thought that it was a good idea to bounce an infant. Contrary to popular belief, no, it is neither stimulating nor fucking calming to the baby when you bounce them. It felt more akin to experiencing an earthquake and it was scary as hell.

With the coming and going of various people, I recognised a few of them from the Narutoverse. Yoruo was a reputable jounin and had connections in the shinobi network, maintaining amicable ties with several clans. The future clan heads of Ino-Shika-Chou once paid me a visit as their genin selves and I found a great delight in tugging all three of the men's long hair. My family was acquainted with various Uchiha as well, most likely out of respect for the Yuuhi's mastery of genjutsu.

My father was not too shabby at all and also shared an acquaintance with the Sarutobi clan. Somehow, he had managed to secure an invitation to the home of Sarutobi Hiruzen, the motherfuckin' Hokage himself.

"Kurenai-chan, is it?" he smiled down at me with a younger face while I giggled happily and kicked my legs around in his arms. "My son is only a few months younger than you."

Handing me back to Yoruo, the Hokage took a smaller, swaddled infant from his wife, Biwako and presented him to both my father and I while wearing a proud expression.

"This is Asuma."

Holy motherfucking shit. I was staring at my future boyfriend and the future father of my child. No, wait… _Kurenai's_ future boyfriend. While I did think that Asuma was pretty awesome in the series, I wasn't sure of how much I wanted to bump uglies with the guy. It was really, really disturbing to think of sex and the same baby right in front of me together in the same sentence.

Oh great, I had to go through puberty again.

I also had no notion of how this timeline worked. Was it self-consistent? Would everything in canon inevitably happen, regardless of my actions? Was I fated to bear Asuma's son?

Was everyone doomed to die?

Looking at Asuma now, he was a tiny little thing, sleeping peacefully and completely unaware of how in thirty or so years from now, he would be dead. Almost everyone who I had met earlier would also be dead. Suddenly, foresight of the future didn't seem very appealing. I was no hero. I was never virtuous in my past life and all in all, used to be quite a self-interested bastard who really didn't do much for others. Being part of the military was definitely not on my agenda and I had no intentions of dying yet again. Patriotism was a laughable concept to me and the Will of Fire? Ain't nobody got time for dat shit, yo! True Neutral 4 lyfe.

I must seem like a despicable person but every other average individual was sure as hell not selfless or a martyr. Not everyone could be the Good and kickass shounen protagonist, or else _Naruto_ wouldn't have been named after a single goddamn character. Who was I kidding? I didn't deserve this second chance at life.

But they didn't deserve to die, either.

Moral quandaries were such a bitch to figure out. My temperament and qualities were better suited to a behind-the-scenes position, something like Research and Development. I was also defiantly opposed to going into politics. Could I even be bothered to meticulously map out future events and have a plan of action to change them? And even then, could I even be successful in doing so? There were too many risks and not enough certainties.

Someone was laughing. I was pulled from my depressing contemplations and set my eyes on Asuma who had managed to reach out and had taken hold of Hiruzen's goatee. My father was chuckling unabashedly at the Sandaime who looked positively delighted at his son's development.

"It looks like he'll definitely follow in his father's footsteps to grow a beard!" Hiruzen joked, laughing before letting out a small exclamation of pain at the sharp tug of his facial hair.

The scene before me was so… precious. That father and son bond was going to fray in the future and would never be mended due to Hiruzen's death at the hands of Orochimaru. But I could prevent that. Orochimaru would be captured and imprisoned early so that countless many could be spared. Obito and Rin didn't have to die, Kakashi could be happy and Obito wouldn't go batshit insane, so no Kyuubi destruction, no Minato or Kushina dying and no Fourth Shinobi War! Naruto wouldn't be orphaned and then something had to be done about the Uchiha massacre… I could potentially save everyone. I could make a difference…

Christ, I might as well be playing god. And I had learned well enough from _Frankenstein_ that that could never end well. No one should be able to wield that much influence and power over future events. And putting that much responsibility on me? A mere mortal? A self-serving, morally questionable and chronically lazy jerkass? What in the nine circles of Dante's Inferno were The Powers That Be thinking?!

"How the time passes," Yoruo sighed. "Before you know it, they will be in our current position, holding their own children in their arms."

Hiruzen smiled. "Ah, yes. I can only hope that I live to see the day when my younger son will grant me a grandchild."

Shit. I hated having a conscience.

* * *

**A/N: **A yamato nadeshiko is, "the personification of an idealised Japanese woman".


	2. lily (innocence)

**〇二 |**** lily (**_**innocence**_**)**

The first word that my parents heard me speak was, naturally, in a horrifically adorable and high-pitched squeal, "Kaa-chan!"

Hinoiri gasped and gushed, "Yes, Kurenai, I'm your Mummy, you got it right!" and rushed over to wrap her arms around me in a snuggly embrace. She shot Yoruo a smug look and loudly declared, "She loves me more than you," before tickling me incessantly, "Don't you, Kure-chan? You do, don't you?"

I giggled uncontrollably at my nerves firing off like crazy while my father crossed his arms sulkily. He looked so pathetic in that moment that I took pity on the guy and squirmed in my mother's arms, trying to disentangle myself while holding my tiny little hands out.

"Tou-chan?" I put on my cutest pouty face which would have melted the hearts of even the most unfeeling of men.

Yoruo's expression instantly split into a wide beam and he scooped me up, hugging me to his chest and softly nuzzled me with his cheek. My older conscience was evilly laughing its ass off at the sheer manipulation that my toddler self could successfully inflict upon others even without genjutsu. With my puppy dog eyes and to-die-for pout, I was invincible.

"That's my girl," he said softly into my hair, kissing the top of my head. "Kurenai the little genius."

My heart swelled with pride at my father's words of praise but my rational mind was screaming, "THEY'RE ONTO YOU."

My first words were actually not my parents' titles. I had merely staged that perfect little act just to indulge them because they certainly deserved it with all of the effort they put into raising me. Before that, I had been desperately trying to speak coherently on my own, in English. I was babbling to myself constantly and testing my own speech ability, taking note of the progression of my vocal folds' development. In the early stages, I simply had no motor control over my mouth, tongue and lips and it was frustrating as fuck. Imagine not being able to vocalise yourself when your thoughts were completely intact. I felt like an aphasic brain-damaged patient who could think perfectly well and it almost made me lose my freakin' mind.

Over time, I had gradually gained some amount of control and could manipulate a few sounds successfully which eventually came out as proper words. My speech was slow and incredibly strained at first but I began to speak fluently soon enough, much to my joy and relief that I could finally talk. Hinoiri had caught me speaking perfect English once and had simply dismissed it as gibberish.

I was only seven months old and had already said my first words according to my parents, when in reality, I had started talking at six months, having deliberately delayed revealing my newfound ability. I had no idea when developmental milestones were for infants so I was basically stumbling my way through a deception of trying not to appear as too ridiculously intelligent. It was a dangerous game to play but it was necessary for my own benefit. My life actually depended on it because I really didn't want to be recognised as a prodigy and be forced to enrol into the force early.

"Oh my god, the time!" my mother exclaimed before taking me from Yoruo. "I'm going to show you something wonderful, Kurenai."

Hinoiri hurriedly strode out of the backdoor of the house and into the evening air of the lush garden where her greenhouse sat outside. I had learned early on that she was not a housewife after all but was a botanist who cultivated some of her specimens in our amazing backyard which was practically a miniature botanical garden. It was extensive enough to be divided into separate sections for different flora. Multicoloured beds of flowers adorned the floor in various appropriate areas around the greenhouse and there was even a small pond to one side.

Red waterlilies protruded from their stems upon the water's surface amongst floating lily pads. They were largely in full bloom and stood out brilliantly even in the dark. Hinoiri walked towards the pond and crouched down next to the water's edge, holding me in her lap.

"See those flowers in the water over there?" she pointed to the waterlilies. "That's a nymphaea but most people call them waterlilies. Now, this kind is commonly called a red flare water lily."

There was another thing that I was grateful for about my parents; they only occasionally used baby talk when addressing me and spoke normally most of the time. They thought that it would encourage my supposedly gifted intelligence and hell, I wasn't complaining. The fact that I could comprehend almost everything they said was something that they definitely didn't need to know about. More advanced words still escaped my comprehension and weren't in my known vocabulary such as the technical jargon that my mother was spouting at the moment but I could still get the gist of what she was saying.

"Red flares don't appear in the wild. They're cultivars, which mean that they were specifically bred to produce certain qualities. They only bloom at night, like it is right now. Aren't they beautiful?" Hinoiri oozed with enthusiasm at her botany lesson.

Absentmindedly, I nodded in agreement. They certainly were.

"You don't understand anything that I'm saying right now," she said, as I inwardly snorted. "But these flowers are very special to me…"

"Kaa-chan?" I squeaked for good measure.

Hinoiri smiled radiantly and stood back up again. "You were named after those flowers, Kure-chan. A deep red… 'crimson', just like red flare water lilies. Having your father's eyes only made the name more appropriate."

I would remember that moment throughout the rest of my life as the faint, sweet scent of the red flares punctuated the night air while my mother held me. She pecked my forehead and we went back towards the house where my father was waiting at the door for us.

Yoruo took me into his arms and said, referring to both his wife and daughter, "I love you."

My parents shared a loving kiss while I buried my face in his shirt, grinning like Christmas morning had arrived. I was too happy to even be embarrassed at the sight of their intimate moment.

Playing house with the Yuuhi family was a simple distraction for the many pressing issues swarming around not only in my head but many of which were grounded in the reality that was thrust upon me. Nothing like the looming presence of war shattered such an illusion of domestic bliss and innocence.

Yaruo tucked me into bed and shut the door behind him but I heard his words as clear as day.

"I'm being drafted back to Suna."

I sat up in my cot clutching my blanket with my heart battering my ribcage. No… this can't be what was I thought it was.

"They can't do this!" my mother cried. "I had to go through that pregnancy alone, Yoruo! How can you leave us now? What about Kurenai? What would happen if—?"

"We both knew that this would happen sooner or later," he cut her off bluntly. "We're being slaughtered over there. My comrades, my _friends_ are out there, risking their lives for Konohagakure while I'm sitting here idly, doing nothing to contribute! They have their own families too, Hinoiri. I have to go back…"

I shut my eyes tightly and pulled the covers over my head, having heard enough. The Second Shinobi World War… how could I forget such a significant event?! Shit… shit, shit, shit! Suffocating underneath the sheets, I threw the covers off and gasped for air. I had to calm myself down and focus on… logic. Ah, good old logic, my reliable buddy.

It was time for some rational thinking. First of all, I knew that Yoruo was not going to die during the war, since he was alive and well during the Kyuubi attack. Now, I had put my faith in the belief that all the events in canon would most certainly occur without any intervention. This was a semi-safe assumption and only time would tell if my mere presence had altered anything in the timeline. Secondly, the war. The Sannin would rise up after being the only ones to survive Hanzo and Hatake Sakumo will kill Sasori's parents and become even more renowned as the White Fang… what about the Ame orphans and the establishment of the Akatsuki? Nothing much would come of them if Obito and Rin survive, hopefully. It would be a cold day in hell before I allow for Rin to die and fuck up all of my plans, therefore practically dooming everyone.

Okay, so no major loss there from what we know of in the manga, aside from possible thousands in war casualties… man, I was such an asshole to pick and choose who to save but I was only one person and could only do so much from what little knowledge I had. Que sera sera and I was so going to hell, wasn't I?

"_What to do now…_" I muttered to myself in English, staring up at the bedroom ceiling. _"I have to get close to Asuma early, just for the sake of having some connection to the Sandaime… yeah, that's right. I'll have to get my parents to arrange some play dates with the little brat in the future. And Kakashi—_"

The door creaked open and I immediately shut up. Yoruo wearily approached the crib and I started to inconspicuously gurgle like any ordinary baby.

"Tou-chan!" I cooed, reaching out my arms.

"Kurenai," he sighed, picking me up. "Your Otousan has to go away for a while… but I'll be back very soon, okay?"

Stroking my hair, Yoruo kissed the side of my head. "I promise you, Kurenai. We will end this war and I will return to both you and your mother."

Clutching his shirt tightly, I made a mental vow. _I won't let anything happen to you, Yoruo. Not on my second goddamn life._

* * *

My father left at dawn the very next day while I was still asleep. Hinoiri, still distraught at her husband's leave, saw this as an opportunity to throw herself back into her work at Konoha's herbarium. Meanwhile, I was left in the care of a genin team in the form of a D-rank mission.

"You've met Inoichi-kun, Shikaku-kun and Chouza-kun before, haven't you? Well, these nice shinobi are going to take care of you while I go to work, Kure-chan," she explained. "Be good for them, okay?"

Hinoiri turned to the Inoichi and said, "Your geraniums are ready for cutting. Say hello to your mother for me, will you?"

The blond grinned in response. "Okaasan will be pleased. Thank you again, Yuuhi-san!"

Handing me to the Akimichi, my mother smiled and waved, "Bye-bye, Kure-chan! Kaa-chan will be back later today!"

Hinoiri disappeared out of the front door and I was left with a rather unimpressed team of genin.

"Aww man, I hate babysitting!" whined Inoichi. "I'm sick of these D-ranks. When can we get a real mission, huh?"

Shikaku grumbled, "I know, right? Brats are so troublesome… especially ones which tug on your hair," he glared at me and I smiled back sweetly.

"I dunno, I think she's kind of cute," said Chouza, examining my tiny hand with his large fingers.

I grabbed hold of his thumb and giggled. _You shall be rewarded you for your kindness, my good sir._

"You're such a sap, Chouza," said Inoichi.

"Shut up."

Inoichi moved into the garden while Shikaku lounged on the living room couch, reading a book on deer. Chouza, however, fulfilled the role of babysitter perfectly and read to me while devouring a packet of barbeque chips.

"And the Silent Hurricane defeated all of the bad Amegakure ninjas with his wind jutsu," _Munch, munch… gulp_. "He was then hailed as a hero for his determination and dedication to the village. The end!"

He shut the horrid book and smiled. "Wasn't that a good story?"

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. If blatant indoctrination started this early in Konoha, it was no wonder that no one lifted eyebrows at the ethical violations the Council committed. Nobody cared to even investigate the most suspicious of individuals in this village. Sick fucks like Danzo and Orochimaru who got away with their underground schemes for so long served as perfect examples of this village's failings. Were there no ethical review boards in this universe at all?!

Chouza sighed. "You're fun to play with, Kurenai-chan but I really wish that I were out there fighting in the war."

Okay, that was so it. I could no longer stand the nauseating nationalism and open disregard for one's own welfare. These were children, for reason's sake, who were willing to throw away their lives for some corrupt regime. Fuck this shit, this was not on.

"_You're a stupid dumbass!"_ I spat out in English. _"You're all brainwashed, every single one of you. Don't you realise what they've done to you? They've turned you into child soldiers who are incapable of independent thought! Do you have no sense of self-preservation? Fucking hell, this universe makes me sick."_

The Akimichi looked stunned. "Are you trying to talk to me in baby language?"

"_Fuck your face, I'm speaking English, you twat! You know, a legitimate language? But no, you wouldn't know, would you? Nobody fucking knows that I'm not from this godforsaken world and that I'm an eighteen year old…_" I furrowed my brow, retracting the thought._ "No, wait, a nineteen year old stuck in a pathetic little baby's body. Yeah."_

Shikaku had finally torn his attention away from his book and looked at me curiously.

"You're a special little one, aren't you?"

I growled at him, "_Define 'special'._"

The Nara boy narrowed his eyes. "I know that you can completely understand me, brat. Dumbing down is unbecoming of you."

Pfft, as if anyone would believe him.

"Quit it, Shikaku," chided Chouza. "You shouldn't speak to her like that. She's just a baby! Of course she can't understand you!"

"Chouza," he said flatly. "Trust me on this when I say that she is not who she appears to be," Shikaku directed his gaze back towards me. "Why don't you speak our language, you imposter?"

"Shikaku!" Chouza gasped.

"C'mon, why don't you show yourself for who you really are?" my own personal interrogator snarled in my face while I made an interesting observation of his young, unscarred face. "Whose agent are you? Ame? Suna? Tell me—"

And with that, I burst out crying, screaming hysterically, "Kaa-chan! Kaa-chan!"

Chouza quickly swept me up in his arms, patting my back and frantically trying to placate my distress.

"What were you thinking?" he hissed to his teammate. "Have you completely lost your mind?"

"She was clearly talking in a foreign language! Some sort of secret code, most likely," Shikaku protested.

Inoichi burst onto the scene in a state of panic, still wearing dirt-covered gloves while holding onto a pair of pruning shears.

"I heard screaming. What the hell happened?"

I observed the disastrous fallout with absolute glee. Now this was entertainment. The pair were ganging up on poor Shikaku who was still standing his ground.

"Do you want us to fail a freaking D-rank mission?" snarled Inoichi, looking mightily threatening while wielding the sharp gardening implement in one hand.

"I am not an idiot," he said slowly. "Quite the opposite, actually, I'm a fucking ge—"

"Not in front of the kid!" Chouza covered my delicate little ears with his hands.

Oh, god. My insides were in stitches. This was priceless. I was shaking in Chouza's arms, trying to contain myself before failing and breaking out into raucous laughter.

The three genin stopped arguing to stare at me incredulously.

I clapped my hands in amusement. "_More, more, more!_"

Shikaku groused, "I told you she was evil."

"You're freaking crazy, Nara," Inoichi rolled his eyes.

Things settled down by the end of the day with Shikaku shooting me suspicious glares every so often. Hinoiri came home from work just before dinnertime to which I cried out, "Kaa-chan!" upon her arrival.

Chouza handed me to back to my rightful place in my mother's arms and I snuggled into her blouse, burbling softly.

"Thank you for taking care of Kure-chan, boys," Hinoiri smiled gratefully. "I'm sure everything was fine?"

"Yep," Inoichi piped up, lying through his teeth. "Nothing happened at all."

"It was completely uneventful," Chouza quickly agreed. "Kurenai-chan was very enjoyable and agreeable to look after."

"That's good to hear," my mother said. "I'm looking forward to seeing you all again very soon."

The Yamanaka held up a bucket full of freshly cut germaniums as he exited the house. "Thanks again for the flowers!"

I stuck my tongue out at Shikaku as he left through the front door and he eyed me with a look that said, "I'll be watching you."

It seemed as if I still had some time left for fun in this universe.

* * *

**A/N:** _Yuuhi_ means "evening sun", so I decided to follow on from that theme. _Yoru_ is "evening" or "night" and I added the male suffix of "-o" to make it more of a legitimate name. _Hinoiri_ means "sunset". Hinoiri as a botanist seemed to make sense as a lot of Kurenai's genjutsu incorporated floral elements and I figured that it could have been from her mother's influence.

To the anon who brought up Asuma's older brother: The Naruto wikia doesn't say anything about it but from fan consensus, apparently, there is evidence of Asuma mentioning that he had an older brother in some obscure manga page… so I've corrected that in the first chapter. Thanks for pointing that out!

I would also like to know your opinions of romance in self-insert fics. Seems like many have an aversion towards it.

Thank you all for your reviews, faves and alerts. You guys have no idea how encouraging it is for me to know that others want to read my writing.


	3. bamboo (growth)

**〇三 |**** bamboo (**_**growth**_**)**

Months passed and Yoruo was still battling it out in Sunagakure. Hinoiri resumed her full-time occupation at the herbarium while I was minded by disgruntled genin teams, often unaccompanied by their sensei who would ditch the D-ranks as they had better things to do. Whenever Ino-Shika-Cho came around the place, Shikaku kept his paranoid eye on me while I no longer dared to have elaborate outbursts in English again, maintaining my charade of having an infant mentality.

I also started teething. Lemme tell you, it is annoying as hell to have teeth erupting through your gums. Before I was given a toothing ring, I took any chance to grab the nearest object and start gnawing on it voraciously to soothe the irritation. My mobility also improved and I could eventually crawl. Learning to walk was a gradual and frustrating process which started with a struggle to even stand up without any support. However, after I had taken the first few steps, it didn't take too long before I mastered the art of walking and running thereafter.

Some updates about the Third Shinobi World War reached me through eavesdropping on the many conversations of the babysitting genin teams and my mother's visitors. Familiar names such as "Chiyo" and "Tsunade" were dropped occasionally during these conversations. Whereas the former was usually called a "poisonous bitch", frequent praise for the latter was given as the "Slug Princess", although I personally thought that that was a godawful and horrifically inelegant epithet.

One of my important sources of news concerning the war, however, was received through Yoruo's letters which he sent every few weeks. My mother always read them aloud to me with great enthusiasm and I could tell when she skipped over the more depressing and graphic parts. While my father remained stationed in the northern part of Suna, fighting off ambushes and going on raiding missions, the war had become critical in Amegakure. I knew that the Sannin would become the only survivors of Hanzo's brutal massacre and earn their aforementioned title around this time and I was glad that my father was not sent to meet his death there.

"_Hatake Sakumo has become not only an invaluable comrade but a good friend,_" read Hinoiri. "_He tells me that his wife, Minori-san, is pregnant with his first child…_"

I perked up at this. That was Kakashi! Holy sweet shite, that was Kakashi's mother who was pregnant with the very Copy Ninja himself.

"Well, we'll have to invite this Minori-san over, don't we?" my mother smiled. "I know how she feels, going through a pregnancy with a shinobi for an absent father…"

As Hinoiri wistfully pondered over her experience, I was internally squealing at the prospect of meeting one of my favourite character's mother who was long gone before the start of the series.

My happiness quickly faded when I realised that this was yet another addition to my mental list of people to save. I knew that Minori had died when Kakashi was very young but it was never specified exactly how and when in canon… I had no idea what to do. Constant vigilance came to mind and it seemed that it was my only option.

Hatake Minori came to visit the Yuuhi household on a Saturday afternoon. It was early summer and just over a week before my first birthday. Perennials remained in bloom from their springtime opening and the eye was treated to the sight of a verdant back garden that was awash with colour. The chirping of cicadas perched onto trees pierced the summer air as a blanket of heat covered the atmosphere.

I hated summer. My previous life's body had been hypersensitive to heat and would break out into massive sweats during the hot season. However, it seemed as if this new body of mine was well-adjusted to the summer heat which surprisingly wasn't too unpleasant in Konoha.

Hinoiri had dressed me in a tiny yellow dress and tied my hair up in pigtails. I pulled a grimace as she smoothed out the creases in my clothes, feeling very much like a doll for my mother's own amusement as she fussed over me.

"Please be on your best behaviour for Hatake-san, okay?" she said.

I nodded obediently while I screamed with excitement inside.

The doorbell rang and my heart leapt. Okaasan went to greet our guest while I scrambled after her, eager to see what Kakashi's mother looked like, someone who had never appeared in the series. Sunlight streamed through the open door and illuminated a towheaded woman with contrastingly dark brown eyes. Hatake Minori wore her hair in a spiky bob which flared outwards at the ends. I could see some resemblance from her in Kakashi in only the untamed quality of her hair. It was apparent that Kakashi had inherited Sakumo's looks… but what about his personality?

"Yuuhi-san," she greeted politely, bowing. "Thank you for inviting me over."

"It was nothing," Hinoiri dismissively waved off her formality. "And please, call me Hinoiri."

Kakashi's mother grinned, her demeanour immediately relaxing. "Then you can call me Minori. Formalities aren't really my thing."

From then on, I decided that I rather liked this woman.

"Would you like some chrysanthemum tea?" my mother asked her. "I brew it from flowers that I dry myself which are grown straight from my garden."

"That actually sounds lovely, thank you."

Hinoiri bustled off to the kitchen and left us alone together in the living room. I looked up at Minori with wide eyes and she stared right back at me. Blushing, I hastily averted my gaze and she laughed.

"What's your name, kid?" Minori smiled kindly. "If you can understand me or know how to speak, that is."

"K-Kurenai," I squeaked shyly.

"That's a pretty name… unlike Kakashi," she made a face. "Sakumo has the worst taste in names. I mean, naming a child 'scarecrow'? Really? The name's stuck, though. Long story short, I lost a bet and so he gets to pick the name. It sucks big time."

I stared at her blankly, pretending not to understand her.

Minori sighed and placed a hand upon her stomach. "Oh well… I'll make sure that my son will grow up to be the best person ever to make up for his terrible name!"

Minori possessed a casually laidback yet friendly attitude. I wondered if Kakashi would have turned out more like his mother in terms of personality if he had grown up with two parents and had not been orphaned at such a young age. Kakashi as an adult had been too aloof, too afraid of forming close connections with anyone for fear of losing them as he had countless of times before. Hell, the guy even hid himself behind an erotic novel, for god's sake. Maybe he'd be happier this time around...

If actually I did something about it.

The pregnant swell of her stomach was clearly visible through her plain, blue kimono. She caught me looking curiously at her distended middle and took hold of my hand before placing it atop the baby bump.

"That's Kakashi-kun in there," she said.

I had never gone anywhere near a pregnant woman before. It was surreal to think that the foetus of Hatake Kakashi was right underneath my palm.

"'Kashi-kun…" I whispered.

Minori heard me and smiled. "Maybe it's not such a bad name after all."

He kicked. I squealed in surprise and retracted my hand.

"Oh! He's kicking!" she giggled.

Hinoiri appeared from the kitchen carrying a tray of teacups and a pot.

"The baby's kicking!" Minori exclaimed.

My mother rushed to put the tray down and kneeled down to feel Kakashi kicking around in Minori's womb. As the two women shared a joyful moment together, I smiled and basked in the happiness myself.

I had to take what little I could get in this lifetime.

* * *

My first birthday passed without my father's presence. It was a rather big event—courtesy of my mother who made a big deal out of it—with relatives and friends mainly gathered out in the back garden. Adult males were largely absent from the party as many were shinobi who were on active duty during the war but there were a number of prominent kunoichi missing from my quaint little birthday party. It wasn't accustomed to being the centre of attention and it made me feel a little uncomfortable with everyone cooing at how much I'd grown and how soon enough, I'd be enrolled in the Academy and be sent on my way marching to the blood-soaked battlefield, like a lamb brought to the slaughter…

Well, they didn't exactly put it that way but they might as well have.

The party also served as a convenient excuse for the adults to commune and discuss the status and events of the war. As such topics were unsuited to innocent little ears, in the meantime, the children were all left confined in a playpen indoors with Raidou, being the oldest, as our warden. It was amazing to see all of them as children who hadn't yet experienced the horrors of being on active duty. Raidou and Ibiki's faces were unscathed while Ebisu and Aoba lacked their glasses. Genma, on the other hand, was sucking on a pacifier, a substitute for his usual senbon. The guy obviously had a massive oral fixation. Asuma, my supposed love interest (gag), had the privilege of getting his own little throne-y sort of baby seat, separate from us plebeians as just one of the many perks of being the Hokage's son.

Ebisu started to wail as Ibiki sharply pulled on his hair. I guessed that his sadistic streak was already showing. Raidou, being a good, responsible little sod, even at the age of five, promptly stepped in and pulled them apart.

"Ibiki-kun, please stop that," he chided the baby who most likely didn't understand.

"You shouldn't hurt others."

"Yay!" Ibiki shrieked gleefully. "Yay, yay!"

Oh, the irony.

Ebisu sniffled in the corner and shifted away from Ibiki, appearing to be frightened of the one year old who had attacked him out of the blue. Behold, the future head of the Torture and Interrogation Force of Konoha! Henceforth shall his victims bow down to him in fear and submission, bwahahaha!

I had coped with my inability to speak by keeping a mental running commentary of the events surrounding me to keep myself sane and entertained. Don't judge me.

"This sucks!" Genma whined with pacifier in one hand while hammering the carpet floor with his fists.

"Yeah, I'm stuck with all you babies," a four year old Aoba grumbled. "I didn't even want to come to this stupid birthday party."

Despite my love for these characters as adults in the fictional series, they were all annoying little shits as kids in reality.

"_Hey, I take offence to that!_" I cried out in English.

I couldn't help myself. I doubt they would have suspected my language abilities at such a young age unlike Shikaku who was still considered as a genius even by normal standards.

The older kids were silenced as they turned to stare at me after my outburst while Ebisu was still cowering away from Ibiki who had started to suck his thumb, looking completely innocent.

"Did she just say something?" Aoba frowned. "In baby talk?"

"_Fuckers!_" I shouted cheerfully, just for the hell of it.

"Fa-ker-su?" Raidou said quizzically, hilariously mangling the English profanity with his Japanese accent.

"Stupid!" I pointed a finger at them all.

Genma returned the gesture. "No, you're stupid!"

I suppressed the urge to fire back with the classic and ever so childish response of, "No, _you're_ stupid," but then I would be sacrificing my dignity as an intelligent and sentient being, so I thought better of it.

Laughing and enjoying myself immensely, I crawled over to a sleeping girl whose name I couldn't quite place. She was napping peacefully and me, being the miscreant that I was who would dare to disturb her peaceful slumber, poked her cheek. The black-haired girl stirred in her sleep but didn't wake so I poked her again.

"Don't wake up Shizune-chan!" Genma scolded, being a complete goody two shoes.

Ah, so that was Shizune! She looked so adorable sleeping while curled up in foetal position, drooling slightly from the corner of her mouth.

At Genma's voice, she jolted awake and sat up, drowsily rubbing her eyes.

"Sleepy," she murmured, yawning.

Squealing, I threw my arms around her as my heavily repressed maternal instinct reared its disgusting head.

Shizune blinked. "Kurenai-chan?"

"You're so cute!" I gushed, pinching her cheek playfully.

"I think she's trying to copy some of the grown-ups," said Aoba amusedly.

Having finished their lovely discussion out in the garden, the adults were filing in from the door. Parents picked their children up from the playpen while I was left in the dust, all alone on the floor. Hinoiri had replaced me with two large slabs of rice cake which had an individual kanji emblazoned on their each of their fronts.

"Okay everyone, it's time for the _issho mochi_!" my mother announced.

What I had previously envisioned as a hearty gathering around my birthday mochi followed by a sweet chorus of 'Happy Birthday' and a cutting of the cake was, in fact, an utterly humiliating trial.

Hinoiri placed the rice cakes onto a colourful piece of cloth and began to tie it around me. Squirming, I tried to get the hell away from this crazy woman who was apparently forcing a baby to carry something on their back that was almost half their body weight. What the hell, Hinoiri?

"No, no!" I screamed. "I don't wanna!"

"Settle down, Kurenai," she shushed me. "This is for your own good."

I immediately quietened as I knew she was being deadly serious when she didn't call me 'Kure-chan'. As soon as Hinoiri released me from her hold, the sheer weight of the rice cakes crushed me and I was left crawling on my hands and knees.

My spectators cheered me on while some of the older children jeered at me. It was one of the most embarrassing moments in my life. Imagine being scrutinised by a whole crowd of people while you pathetically struggled to even stand up on your two feet. I had managed only a couple of steps before gracefully falling flat on my ass.

"Come to Okaasan," the evil woman who dared to call herself my mother cooed. "You can do it, Kure-chan!"

I felt like screaming at the person responsible for putting me through this horrific ordeal, "_Why don't _you_ try carrying a load that's half your fucking weight, you stupid cow!_"

Though I didn't. I barely had the effort to audibly express myself as I was concentrating on the shitty task ahead. Painstakingly, I crawled over to my mother's open arms with tears running down my face. It seemed like eons before I finally reached Hinoiri before she swept me up triumphantly and the whole room erupted with applause.

"I knew you could do it!" she said as I rested my aching limbs and wiped away my tears. "May you be blessed with good health and fortune for your entire life, Kure-chan."

Hinoiri kissed my forehead and I lay still in her arms, pondering the significance of her statement. If I were to become a kunoichi, I would probably be dead before I hit thirty as the statistics would suggest. Although I knew that canonical Kurenai was one of the lucky ones who had survived past that point as to even have a child, I didn't exactly want to know how well I would fare. Me, a privileged little shit hailing from a cushy life in middle-class suburbia, the epitome of a safe and sheltered bourgeois bubble, entering the military… that sounded like a swell idea.

After the mochi debacle, I was placed before a set of various objects and from the expectant looks of the audience, I was to pick one of them. Ah, this game. I knew this game. Whichever object you chose signified your life's calling. There was a shinobi headband, abacus, dictionary, a pair of chopsticks, flower and a wad of ryo bills all lined up in a row. For a split second, I thought of grabbing the money and skipping away merrily into the sunset. I sat there for a while in contemplation, as if choosing the item would actually determine my future.

"Come on, Kure-chan, pick something!" urged Hinoiri, growing tired of waiting.

Slowly, I crawled towards the dictionary and laid my hand on its cover, hoping I made the right decision. My mother smiled and nodded.

"Knowledgeable and intelligent," she said proudly. "That's my daughter for you."

"I'm certain that she will still become a kunoichi," some adult added. "It would be such a waste of potential if she didn't."

"Yes, Yoruo hopes so as well," said Hinoiri. "But I would be happy with whatever Kurenai chooses to become."

_Okaasan…_

I turned my head to look at the faces of the future generation of Konoha's shinobi, many of which would become horrifically scarred and not just in the physical sense. Minori was grinning emphatically at me while her hands were placed upon her pregnant stomach which made my own churn with bitter guilt.

I was too much of a coward.

* * *

**A/N:** _Minori_ can be written as "ripening of a crop" or "harvest" in kanji. Pretty suitable name for the Hatake family, eh? Towheaded means platinum blonde, almost white hair.

_Issho mochi_ is an actual traditional Japanese custom for first birthdays. Basically, _issho_ or one _sho_, is an old unit of volume which is approximately 1.8 kilograms (4 lb). The tradition symbolises the future hardships of life the child will experience. Also, when the kid falls down, it's said that they're spiritually cleansed (_yaku otoshi_). _Otoshi_ means to drop or fall so it's all a huge pun. The "choosing your calling" event is called _erabitori_.

These first few chapters mainly established the setting and characters. More plot will happen in the next chapter, so don't worry too much. Kurenai's actions are bit limited as a baby, y'see. The next chapter will be up in maybe a bit less than a month as I've got finals coming up… ugh.

Again, many thanks to readers who reviewed, alerted, fave'd and added this fic to C2s. Reviews (really, really) motivate my writing!


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